<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>What Lurks by Natanalien</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060025">What Lurks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natanalien/pseuds/Natanalien'>Natanalien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fae &amp; Faeries - Fandom, Fae Magic - Fandom, Faerie Folklore, Folklore - Fandom, Superstition - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:35:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natanalien/pseuds/Natanalien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of what happens when deals are forgotten.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Lurks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     They never see it coming. They have forgotten where to look. They have forgotten Us. They used to tell stories of us, lurking in our hills. Never referring to us by name. They conceived protections from us, some of which actually worked. We allowed them to believe these protections were enough, lest they divine more effective methods. The iron, the shears, the outturned coats, they have forgotten all of this. While in the olden days only the most foolhardy or headstrong would venture into our places to be taken. Now we have an abundance. More than we know what to do with, really.</p><p>     They have forgotten our circles, forgotten to hide their true names. As a matter of course we have grown… not lazy, per se, but we need not put in much effort to take anymore. Our blood is stronger than ever. All this is good, but we are not pleased. They have forgotten the tributes.</p><p>     We used to feast on crème and milk and butter, but they have scorned us now. The people of the mounds have a long memory, a memory that stretches back to the emerald isle, one that will not allow this deal to go unfulfilled. And so we take.</p><p>     Our changelings now lead hikes, encouraging experiencing the outdoors. They defend the wild places, holding back those who wish to tear down where we reside. Using magicks they may not know they have, they persuade the lawmakers to set up intricate webs of contracts. They may not realize, but they are still engaging in deals with the folk. When they sign these deals they renew the old bonds, and we are allowed to continue to take our payment. And so we take.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>